Today’s Always Uplifting Verse and Devotional to start your day off right!

What Can One Sandwich Do?

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Proverbs 3:3 — Never let loyalty and kindness leave you! Tie them around your neck as a reminder. Write them deep within your heart.

Leftovers can change lives.

Now, I know that might sound a little strange.

After all, when we think about changing someone’s life, we usually imagine doing something big.

Something extraordinary.

Something that requires a lot of money, time, or resources.

But sometimes, it starts with something as simple as a sandwich.

I was reading a story about a man who began sharing his leftover sandwiches with people experiencing homelessness in his neighborhood.

Nothing fancy.

No big organization.

No elaborate plan.

Just a man who had a little extra food and noticed someone who could use it.

So he shared what he had.

And then he did it again.

And again.

But here’s where the story gets interesting.

His coworkers began to notice what he was doing.

And before long, they wanted to help, too.

What started as one person sharing a sandwich became several people bringing food.

Then they began reaching out to local businesses.

And those businesses started contributing food and other supplies.

Before long, a simple act of kindness had grown into a neighborhood effort.

Every Friday, people came together to provide free lunches for neighbors who were hungry.

All because one man decided that the extra sandwich he had wasn’t too small to make a difference.

Isn’t that something?

He wasn’t trying to launch a movement.

He wasn’t looking for recognition.

He simply saw a need and responded with what he had.

And his kindness inspired other people to do the same.

That story got me thinking.

How many times do we overlook an opportunity to help someone because what we have to offer seems too small?

We think, Well, I can’t do very much.

Or, Somebody else probably has more to give.

Or maybe, What difference could my little bit possibly make?

And so we do nothing.

Not because we don’t care.

But because we convince ourselves that what we have isn’t enough.

Yet sometimes, what seems small to us can mean the world to someone else.

Think about that sandwich for a moment.

To the man who gave it away, it might have been nothing more than an extra lunch.

But to the person receiving it?

It could have meant not going hungry that afternoon.

It could have meant feeling noticed.

It could have meant knowing that somebody cared enough to stop and help.

And sometimes, when life has been especially hard, that reminder can mean almost as much as the food itself.

That’s what makes Proverbs 3:3 so meaningful to me.

“Never let loyalty and kindness leave you! Tie them around your neck as a reminder. Write them deep within your heart.”

I love the picture that verse paints.

God doesn’t want kindness to be something we pull out only when it’s convenient.

He wants it to become part of who we are.

Something we carry with us.

Something so deeply written on our hearts that it begins to shape the way we see people and respond to their needs.

And notice that the verse connects kindness with loyalty, or faithfulness.

Because real kindness isn’t just about one nice moment.

It’s about developing a heart that continues to care.

A heart that’s willing to show up.

A heart that notices people others might walk right past.

And I think that’s where this story becomes especially powerful.

That man didn’t know what his first sandwich would lead to.

He didn’t know his coworkers would get involved.

He didn’t know businesses would begin donating.

And he certainly didn’t know that one small decision might inspire an entire neighborhood to help.

He just shared what he had.

And sometimes, that’s all God is asking us to do.

We don’t have to know how the whole story will turn out.

We don’t have to see the results.

We don’t even have to have very much.

We just have to be willing to notice the needs around us and respond with love.

Maybe for you, it’s sharing a meal.

Maybe it’s helping a neighbor with something they can’t do on their own.

Maybe it’s spending a little extra time with someone who’s lonely.

Or maybe it’s offering encouragement to someone who feels like nobody sees them.

Because kindness isn’t always something you can put in a bag and hand to another person.

Sometimes it’s a listening ear.

A gentle word.

A few minutes of your time.

Or simply treating someone with dignity when the world has made them feel invisible.

And here’s something I don’t want us to miss.

We may never know what our kindness sets in motion.

The person you encourage today might be the one encouraging someone else tomorrow.

The family you help might one day have an opportunity to help another family.

And that small act of compassion you almost talked yourself out of?

It might be exactly what someone needed to make it through a difficult day.

Now, not every sandwich is going to start a neighborhood movement.

And that’s okay.

Because the value of kindness isn’t measured by how many people notice it or how far the story spreads.

Sometimes, the difference it makes is simply that one person feels a little less alone.

And that’s worth something.

So today, before you overlook a need or assume you have nothing meaningful to offer, take another look around.

What do you have?

What could you share?

Who might need a little kindness today?

You may not have everything you wish you could give.

But don’t underestimate what God can do through a willing heart.

After all, you never know what one sandwich might start.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Have you ever received a small act of kindness that meant far more to you than the person giving it probably realized?
  • Why do you think we sometimes hesitate to help because we believe what we have to offer isn’t enough?
  • Proverbs 3:3 tells us to write kindness and faithfulness on our hearts. What would that look like in your everyday life?
  • Who around you might be feeling overlooked, forgotten, or in need of a little encouragement?
  • What’s one simple act of kindness you could offer today without expecting anything in return?

QUESTION TO CARRY WITH YOU TODAY

What do I already have that could make a difference in someone else’s life today?

/by

Don’t Let One Awkward Moment Stop You

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Acts 20:24 — But my life is worth nothing to me unless I use it for finishing the work assigned me by the Lord Jesus—the work of telling others the Good News about the wonderful grace of God.

Can I tell you something about myself?

I have this little habit that I’m not particularly proud of.

Okay, fine. It’s probably a toxic trait.

If I’m trying to help somebody, and I genuinely think I’m doing a good thing, but then somebody comes along and says, “Oh, you’re actually not supposed to do that,” or “Yeah, no, that’s not how we do things”…

Well.

Awkward.

And my immediate response?

I’m never doing that again.

Anybody else?

Please tell me I’m not alone here.

Because there’s just something about thinking you’re being helpful, only to discover you’ve gotten it wrong, that makes you want to disappear into the nearest hole.

And maybe stay there for a while.

This actually happened to me recently.

I was trying to help. My intentions were good. I thought I was doing the right thing.

But then I found out I had missed the mark.

And almost immediately, that familiar thought showed up.

See? This is why you shouldn’t even try. You just make things worse.

But before I could settle into my little pity party, I felt the Lord challenging what was happening in my heart.

No. We’re not turning this into a belief system.

We’re not taking one uncomfortable moment and using it as proof that trying to help people is a bad idea.

We’re not deciding that because something didn’t go the way we hoped, we should never put ourselves out there again.

Because sometimes?

You just miss the mark.

That’s it.

You can have a good heart and still make a mistake.

You can genuinely want to serve someone and discover you went about it the wrong way.

You can step forward with the best intentions and still end up feeling embarrassed.

And none of those things automatically mean you should stop trying.

But isn’t it funny how quickly we can turn one experience into a whole story about ourselves?

One mistake becomes, I’m terrible at this.

One awkward conversation becomes, I should just keep my mouth shut.

One attempt to help that didn’t go as planned becomes, Maybe I should stop getting involved.

And before we know it, we’re sitting on the sidelines.

Not because God told us to stop.

But because we’re afraid of feeling embarrassed again.

That’s what made me think about something the apostle Paul said in Acts 20:24.

“But my life is worth nothing to me unless I use it for finishing the work assigned me by the Lord Jesus—the work of telling others the Good News about the wonderful grace of God.”

Now, Paul was facing challenges far greater than an awkward moment.

He knew that following Jesus and sharing the Gospel could bring suffering, opposition, and uncertainty.

But he had made up his mind about something.

He wasn’t going to let the difficulties along the way distract him from the work Jesus had given him.

His mission mattered more than his comfort.

And while my little embarrassing moment certainly doesn’t compare to what Paul faced, his words challenged me.

Because how often do we allow something uncomfortable to keep us from doing something meaningful?

How many times do we let the fear of getting it wrong become bigger than our desire to do what’s right?

Maybe you’ve experienced that, too.

You tried to encourage someone, but your words came out wrong.

You volunteered to help, but things didn’t go the way you expected.

You stepped out of your comfort zone to serve, and instead of feeling good about it, you walked away feeling foolish.

And now you’re hesitant to try again.

Can I encourage you?

Don’t let one awkward moment become the reason you stop showing up.

You don’t have to pretend you handled everything perfectly.

You don’t have to defend every decision you made.

And you certainly don’t have to keep doing something the wrong way just because your intentions were good.

Sometimes the most faithful thing you can do is admit you made a mistake.

Apologize if you need to.

Listen.

Learn.

Make an adjustment.

And then?

Keep going.

Because God’s grace isn’t just something we tell other people about.

It’s something we need to remember for ourselves, too.

We are going to make mistakes.

We’re going to misunderstand things.

We’re going to have moments when we wish we could rewind the last five minutes of our lives and try again.

But those moments don’t have to define us.

And they certainly don’t have to disqualify us from loving and serving others.

You know what I’ve been learning?

Embarrassment is a feeling. It doesn’t have to become a decision.

Just because something made you uncomfortable doesn’t mean you should never try again.

Just because you didn’t get it right the first time doesn’t mean God can’t use you the next time.

And just because you had one awkward moment doesn’t mean you have nothing valuable to offer.

There are still people who need encouragement.

There are still opportunities to show kindness.

There is still good work to be done.

And God is still able to work through imperfect people who are willing to keep showing up.

So today, if you’ve been holding back because of something that didn’t go the way you hoped, maybe it’s time to give yourself a little grace.

Take what you learned from the experience.

Leave behind the shame that doesn’t belong there.

And ask God for the courage to step forward again.

Because the goal was never to serve perfectly.

It’s to serve faithfully.

Don’t let one awkward moment turn into a lifetime of sitting on the sidelines.

Give yourself the grace to get it wrong, the humility to learn, and the courage to try again.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Have you ever stopped doing something good because one experience left you feeling embarrassed or discouraged?
  • Why is it so easy to turn one mistake into a negative belief about ourselves?
  • What does Paul’s determination in Acts 20:24 teach you about remaining faithful when things become uncomfortable?
  • Is there a past mistake you need to learn from without allowing it to define you?
  • What opportunity to encourage, help, or serve someone might God be inviting you to reconsider?

QUESTION TO CARRY WITH YOU TODAY

Am I allowing one uncomfortable moment from my past to keep me from something good God may be calling me to do today?

/by

A Brighter Kind of Life

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Matthew 5:14-15 — You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house.

Florence Nightingale was not your average Victorian lady.

She could have spent her life in elegant drawing rooms, dressed in beautiful silk gowns, surrounded by the finest things society had to offer.

She came from a wealthy family.

She had opportunities most women of her time could only dream about.

But Florence wanted something different.

She wanted her life to mean something.

And she believed God had called her to care for people who were suffering.

During the Crimean War, that calling took her to a military hospital in Scutari, near Constantinople.

And what she found there was heartbreaking.

Wounded soldiers were crowded into filthy hospital wards.

Medical supplies were scarce.

Sanitation was terrible.

And men who had survived the horrors of battle were dying from disease and infection.

Can you imagine?

These soldiers had already endured so much.

And now, far from home, many were lying in hospital beds with little comfort and even less hope.

But Florence didn’t turn away.

She and her team of nurses rolled up their sleeves and got to work.

They cleaned.

They organized.

They tended wounds.

They cared for men who desperately needed someone to care.

And Florence didn’t do it because she wanted recognition.

She did it because she saw people who were hurting, and she believed their lives mattered.

But there’s one part of her story that I find especially moving.

At night, when the hospital grew quiet and the darkness settled over the wards, Florence would make her rounds carrying a lamp.

She walked among the sick and wounded.

Checking on them.

Offering comfort.

Making sure they knew they hadn’t been forgotten.

And before long, she became known as “The Lady with the Lamp.”

Isn’t that a beautiful picture?

In a place filled with pain, fear, and uncertainty, here came a woman carrying a little light.

And for the soldiers lying in those beds, I imagine the sight of that lamp meant more than Florence could ever have known.

It meant someone was coming.

Someone cared.

Someone hadn’t forgotten them.

And that makes me think about something Jesus said in Matthew 5.

“You are the light of the world.”

Now, think about that for a moment.

Jesus didn’t say we should hide our faith away where nobody could see it.

He compared His followers to a lamp placed on a stand so that everyone in the house could benefit from its light.

And I think sometimes we make that calling more complicated than it needs to be.

We imagine that making a difference for God requires something extraordinary.

A big ministry.

A microphone.

A mission trip halfway around the world.

Or some special talent we don’t think we have.

But what if shining our light begins with something much simpler?

What if it begins with noticing someone who’s sitting in the dark?

Maybe it’s the coworker who’s been unusually quiet lately.

The neighbor who lives alone.

The friend who’s going through something difficult but keeps insisting everything is fine.

Or the person everybody else seems too busy to notice.

Sometimes, bringing light into someone’s life looks like a phone call.

A meal.

A visit.

A listening ear.

Or simply showing up when someone needs to know they haven’t been forgotten.

Now, Florence Nightingale’s work changed the way people thought about nursing and hospital care.

Her influence reached far beyond those hospital wards.

But I wonder if some of the moments that mattered most to the soldiers were the quiet ones.

The moments when she stopped beside a bed.

When she offered a kind word.

When the glow of her lamp reminded someone that they weren’t alone.

Because here’s something I’ve come to believe.

You don’t have to light up the whole world to make a difference in someone’s darkness.

Sometimes, you just need to bring a little light to the person standing in front of you.

And as followers of Jesus, we have the opportunity to reflect His love wherever He places us.

Not so people will notice how wonderful we are.

But so they might catch a glimpse of how wonderful He is.

That’s what Jesus goes on to say in Matthew 5:16.

When people see the good things we do, the glory should go to our Father in heaven.

So today, I want to challenge you to look around.

Who might be struggling?

Who might feel forgotten?

Who could use a little encouragement?

You may never know how much your kindness means to them.

You may never hear the full story of what they’re facing.

But that doesn’t make your act of love any less important.

Florence carried a lamp through the darkness of a military hospital.

You and I have opportunities to carry the love of Jesus into the places we go every day.

And sometimes, the smallest light can make an extraordinary difference.

So don’t hide your light.

Someone may need it more than you know.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What part of Florence Nightingale’s story speaks most strongly to you?
  • Why do you think Jesus compared His followers to a lamp that gives light to everyone in a house?
  • Have you ever experienced a time when someone’s simple act of kindness helped you through a difficult season?
  • Is there someone in your life who may be struggling quietly and could use encouragement?
  • How can you serve others in a way that points them toward God’s love rather than drawing attention to yourself?

QUESTION TO CARRY WITH YOU TODAY

Who might be sitting in the darkness today, waiting for someone like me to bring a little light?

/by

Working For a Better Boss

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Colossians 3:23 — Work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people.

Have you ever had a job you just couldn’t stand walking into?

You know the kind I’m talking about.

The alarm goes off, and before your feet even hit the floor, you’re already dreading the day.

Maybe it’s the people.

Maybe it’s the pressure.

Maybe it’s the environment.

Or maybe you’re just so worn down that the thought of walking through those doors makes your stomach turn.

And maybe that’s where you are right now.

Don’t worry.

We don’t have to tell anybody.

But you know who already knows?

God.

And He’s someone you can talk to about it.

I know because I’ve been there.

I had a job once that I absolutely dreaded.

And I remember what I used to do every single morning before walking inside.

I’d sit in my car.

Sometimes with my hands still on the steering wheel.

Knowing I had to go in.

Knowing the bills weren’t going to pay themselves.

But also knowing that I didn’t have the strength to face another day on my own.

So I’d pray.

“God, Holy Spirit, take over. I can’t do this without You, but I’ve got to work.”

That was it.

Nothing fancy.

No beautifully worded prayer.

Just an exhausted person asking God for help.

And then, one day, someone shared a Scripture with me that began to change the way I approached that job.

Colossians 3:23.

“Work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people.”

Now, I’ll be honest.

That verse didn’t suddenly make me love my job.

It didn’t make every difficult coworker easier to deal with.

It didn’t erase the stress or magically change my circumstances.

But it changed something in me.

Because I began to realize that my work wasn’t just about my boss.

Or my coworkers.

Or whether anybody noticed how hard I was trying.

My work could be an offering to God.

And that gave me a completely different perspective.

Instead of walking through those doors thinking only about how much I didn’t want to be there, I started asking God to help me honor Him while I was there.

Help me be patient.

Help me be kind.

Help me do my work with integrity.

Help me give my best, even on the days when I didn’t feel my best.

And little by little, something began to shift.

Not necessarily the job.

But my heart toward the work I was doing.

I realized that I couldn’t always control the environment around me.

I couldn’t control how other people treated me.

And I certainly couldn’t control every difficult situation that came my way.

But with God’s help, I could choose how I responded.

I could choose to do my work faithfully.

I could choose to treat people with kindness.

And I could remember that even when nobody else appreciated what I was doing, God saw me.

Now, I want to be careful here.

Working for the Lord doesn’t mean you have to accept mistreatment, ignore unhealthy situations, or stay somewhere that’s harming you.

Sometimes, honoring God means having a difficult conversation, setting a boundary, asking for help, or making a change.

But while we’re walking through the circumstances we’re in, we can ask Him to help us live and work in a way that reflects His character.

And here’s what I learned during that season.

I couldn’t always change how I felt about my job, but I could change who I was working for.

That one truth made such a difference.

Because I wasn’t just showing up for a paycheck anymore.

I was showing up with an opportunity to honor Jesus in the way I worked and treated others.

And on the mornings when I still felt overwhelmed?

I kept praying.

Because I still needed His help.

Maybe you do, too.

Maybe you’re reading this while sitting in your car outside your workplace.

Maybe you’ve already looked at the clock three times, wishing you could just turn around and go home.

Or maybe you don’t dread your job, but you’re exhausted from giving so much of yourself and wondering whether any of it matters.

If that’s you, I want to encourage you today.

Before you walk through those doors, take a moment.

Talk to God.

Tell Him how you’re feeling.

Ask the Holy Spirit to give you strength, patience, wisdom, and a heart that honors Him.

You don’t have to pretend the job is wonderful.

You don’t have to pretend you’re not tired.

But you can remember that the work you do matters to God, even when it feels unnoticed by everyone else.

And while we all have bills to pay and responsibilities to meet, our work can be about something more than just making it to Friday.

It can become an opportunity to serve Jesus right where we are.

So tomorrow morning, when you pull into that parking lot and turn off your engine, remember something.

You may have to walk through those doors, but you don’t have to walk through them alone.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Have you ever experienced a season when going to work felt emotionally or spiritually exhausting?
  • How might your attitude toward your responsibilities change if you approached them as an opportunity to honor God?
  • What’s the difference between doing your best for the Lord and feeling pressured to tolerate an unhealthy workplace?
  • Is there a coworker, customer, or supervisor you could approach with more patience or kindness this week?
  • What would it look like to invite the Holy Spirit into your workday before it even begins?

QUESTION TO CARRY WITH YOU TODAY

What would change about my workday if I remembered that I’m ultimately working to honor Jesus?

/by

The Road Worth Taking

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John 13:14-15 — Since I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done to you.

There’s a new song on The Cross that I just can’t get enough of.

It’s called “Road Less Traveled” by Joe L. Barnes and Seph Schleuter.

Have you heard it yet?

It’s one of those songs that makes you want to roll the windows down, turn the volume up, and sing along.

But somewhere between tapping the steering wheel and enjoying the music, there’s a line that might just stop you in your tracks.

“Find me somewhere washing feet.”

Wow.

Now that’s a lyric worth sitting with.

Because when you really think about it, those few words capture something beautiful about what it means to follow Jesus.

In John 13, we find Jesus sharing a meal with His disciples.

And He does something nobody expects.

He gets up from the table.

Takes off His outer garment.

Wraps a towel around His waist.

And begins washing His disciples’ feet.

Now, we have to remember what that meant in those days.

People walked dusty roads in sandals, and washing feet was a lowly task, typically reserved for a servant.

It certainly wasn’t something you’d expect from a respected teacher.

And especially not from the Son of God.

But there He was.

The One who had every right to be served was kneeling down to serve others.

Think about that for a moment.

The One who deserved every crown in heaven willingly took the lowest place in the room.

And then Jesus said something that changed everything.

“Since I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example to follow.”

In other words, this is what I want you to do.

Not simply admire My humility.

Not just talk about My love.

Go and show it.

And I think that’s where following Jesus can become a little uncomfortable.

Because it’s easy to love the idea of serving others.

It’s another thing entirely when serving requires something from us.

Our time.

Our comfort.

Our convenience.

Our willingness to put someone else’s needs ahead of our own.

Sometimes, following Jesus means rearranging a schedule we already had planned.

Sometimes, it means showing kindness to someone who hasn’t been particularly kind to us.

Sometimes, it means doing something nobody else will notice or thank us for.

And sometimes, it means loving someone who has absolutely nothing to offer us in return.

But isn’t that exactly what Jesus demonstrated?

He didn’t wash His disciples’ feet because they had earned it.

He did it because He loved them.

And He wanted them to understand that real love doesn’t just talk.

Real love gets up from the table, picks up a towel, and serves.

Now, that doesn’t mean we all have to leave our jobs and become missionaries.

It doesn’t mean we need a microphone, a platform, or some extraordinary opportunity to make a difference.

Sometimes, serving Jesus looks remarkably ordinary.

Inviting someone who’s lonely to dinner.

Sitting across the table from a friend and really listening.

Checking on a neighbor.

Making room on the couch for someone who’s having a difficult day.

Or doing something kind for a person who may never know you were the one who did it.

Those things might not seem like much.

But when they’re done with the love of Jesus, they matter.

Because the Christian life isn’t about building a name for ourselves.

It’s about making His love known.

And sometimes, the most meaningful things we do for God’s Kingdom are the things that never receive any recognition at all.

I wonder how different our communities would look if more of us lived that way.

If we spent a little less time worrying about being noticed and a little more time noticing the people around us.

If we stopped asking, “What’s in it for me?”

And started asking, “How can I show someone the love of Jesus today?”

That’s the kind of faith I want.

Not one that’s simply comfortable.

Not one that’s only visible on Sunday mornings.

But one that follows Jesus wherever He leads, even when the road is inconvenient, uncomfortable, or unnoticed.

So the next time “Road Less Traveled” comes on The Cross, go ahead.

Turn it up.

Sing along.

But when you hear that line about washing feet, let it remind you of something.

Following Jesus isn’t about finding the road that brings us the most recognition. It’s about following the One who showed us how to love.

And if that road leads us to a place where someone needs a little kindness, a helping hand, or a reminder that they matter?

Well, that’s exactly where we ought to be.

Find me somewhere washing feet.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Why do you think Jesus chose something as humble as washing feet to demonstrate how His followers should love one another?
  • When was the last time someone served you in a way that made you feel genuinely loved?
  • Is there an opportunity to serve someone that you’ve been avoiding because it would be inconvenient or uncomfortable?
  • How can we guard against seeking recognition for the good things we do?
  • Who is one person in your life who could use a simple, practical expression of Jesus’ love this week?

QUESTION TO CARRY WITH YOU TODAY

Am I more interested in being noticed for what I do, or in making sure someone else feels the love of Jesus?

 

L Y R I C S

Lord, where You lead I’ll follow
Keep me walking down the straight and narrow
Come gladness, tears, or trouble
Give me Jesus and the road less traveled

I was never one for rules, don’t want no cookie cutter faith
I’ve seen Jesus walk with sinners and turn rebels into saints
There’s more outside these walls than the fear inside of me
So you can keep your earthly crowns
Find me somewhere washing feet
I’m singing

Lord, where You lead I’ll follow
Keep me walking down the straight and narrow
Come gladness, tears, or trouble
Give me Jesus and the road less traveled

Oh-na-na
Oh-na-na
Ooh

Now the laborers are few, the harvest’s overflowing
Many are called, but not enough are going
So count me in the number, carrying my cross
To take the love of Jesus and gather up the lost
I’m singing

Lord, where You lead I’ll follow
Keep me walking down the straight and narrow
Come gladness, tears, or trouble
Give me Jesus and the road less traveled

Oh-na-na
Oh-na-na
Give me Jesus and the road less traveled

Oh-na-na-na
Oh-na-na-na
Give me Jesus and the road less traveled

Oh Lord

When the world offers counterfeit
I choose Jesus
When it costs more than I can give
I choose Jesus
When the world can’t make sense of it
I choose Jesus
And when nobody’s coming with
I choose Jesus

When the world offers counterfeit
I choose Jesus
When it costs more than I can give
I choose Jesus
When the world can’t make sense of it
I choose Jesus
And when nobody’s coming with
I choose Jesus

So, tell me who’s coming with?
Oh, I’m singing

Lord, where You lead I’ll follow
Keep me walking down the straight and narrow
Come gladness, tears, or trouble
Give me Jesus and the road less traveled

Lord, where You lead I’ll follow
Keep me walking down the straight and narrow
Come gladness, tears, or trouble
Give me Jesus and the road less traveled

Oh-na-na
Oh-na-na
Give me Jesus and the road less traveled

Oh-na-na-na
Oh-na-na-na
Give me Jesus and the road less traveled

/by

Safe After Sundown

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Zephaniah 3:17 — For the Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs.

I’ll never forget those early days after having a baby.

Especially when the “nighttime scaries” would come.

Now, if you’ve ever had a newborn, you might know exactly what I’m talking about.

Somewhere around four or five o’clock in the afternoon, when the sun started getting a little lower in the sky, I’d feel this sense of dread creeping in.

Oh no.

Nighttime is coming.

I’m going to be up a million times.

I’m not going to get any sleep.

And tomorrow, I’m going to have to do it all over again.

Have you ever noticed how your mind can take something that hasn’t even happened yet and turn it into something you’re already exhausted from?

Because that’s exactly what I was doing.

The sun hadn’t even gone down, and I was already worrying about how I was going to make it through the night.

But then one evening, I had a realization.

Wait a minute.

I’m not doing this alone.

My husband was right there.

And not only was he there, but he had four months of paternity leave.

Four months!

He could help with the baby.

We could take turns.

I could rest.

And I remember thinking, “Why am I sitting here worrying like everything depends on me when I have someone right beside me who’s ready to help?”

It seems so obvious now.

But in the middle of exhaustion and all those new-mom emotions, I had somehow forgotten something important.

I wasn’t alone.

And you know, I’ve thought about that a lot since then.

Because I don’t think you have to be a new mom to understand that feeling.

Maybe you’re looking ahead at a difficult week.

A doctor’s appointment.

A conversation you’ve been dreading.

A financial situation you don’t know how to fix.

Or a season of life that feels overwhelming before you’ve even stepped into it.

And before you know it, you’re carrying the weight of tomorrow while you’re still trying to get through today.

You start imagining everything that could go wrong.

Everything you’ll have to handle.

Every possibility you can’t control.

And somewhere along the way, you begin to feel like it all depends on you.

But here’s what I want you to remember.

You were never meant to face every unknown as though you’re facing it alone.

Now, I realize that not everybody has a husband with four months of paternity leave.

Not everybody has someone sitting beside them, ready to take the next shift.

And sometimes, the help we desperately need doesn’t seem to be coming.

I don’t want to minimize that.

Because loneliness is real.

Exhaustion is real.

And there are seasons when life feels incredibly heavy.

But even in those moments, Scripture reminds us of something beautiful.

In Zephaniah 3:17, we read:

“For the Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs.”

Can you imagine that?

God doesn’t just see you struggling from a distance.

He is present with His people.

He is mighty to save.

And He delights in them.

But here’s the part I love most.

“With his love, he will calm all your fears.”

There’s something so tender about that picture.

Think about a mother holding her crying baby.

She pulls that little one close.

Whispers softly.

Maybe even sings a song.

The baby doesn’t understand everything that’s happening.

The baby doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring.

But there’s comfort in being held by someone who loves them.

And I think there’s a beautiful reminder of God’s heart in that.

The One who created the universe is not too busy to care about what frightens you.

He’s not annoyed by your need for reassurance.

And He’s not disappointed because you’re feeling overwhelmed.

He loves His people with a faithful, enduring love.

Now, that doesn’t mean every anxious feeling will immediately disappear.

And it doesn’t mean the difficult things we’re facing will suddenly become easy.

Sometimes, we still need practical help, rest, wise counsel, and support from the people around us.

But God’s presence gives us a place to turn, even when we don’t know what comes next.

So maybe today, you’re feeling your own version of the nighttime scaries.

Maybe the sun is setting on a season of life, and you’re afraid of what the darkness might bring.

Maybe you’re already worrying about tomorrow.

If that’s you, take a moment and remember who is with you.

You don’t have to figure out the entire night before the sun goes down.

You don’t have to carry tomorrow’s worries before tomorrow gets here.

And you don’t have to pretend you’re stronger than you feel.

You are seen. You are loved. And you have not been forgotten.

The God who delights in His people is still faithful.

And the One who holds tomorrow is with you today.

So when the nighttime scaries come, let His love remind you:

You don’t have to face the darkness alone.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Have you ever found yourself worrying about something that hadn’t even happened yet?
  • What does it mean to you that Zephaniah 3:17 describes God as delighting in His people rather than merely watching over them?
  • How does the picture of God quieting His people with His love change the way you approach your fears?
  • Is there a responsibility or uncertainty you’ve been carrying as though everything depends on you?
  • What practical support might you need to ask for, alongside bringing your worries to God?

QUESTION TO CARRY WITH YOU TODAY

What am I already worrying about tomorrow that I need to trust God with today?

/by

Peace Without Pretending

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2 Samuel 22:7 — In my distress I cried out to the Lord; yes, I cried to my God for help; He heard me from his sanctuary; my cry reached his ears.

Sometimes, I think we treat anxiety like a spiritual failure.

Have you ever noticed that?

As if being a good Christian means we should always have our emotions under control.

Never worry.

Never feel overwhelmed.

Never admit that we’re struggling.

Because after all, if we really trusted God, wouldn’t we always feel peaceful?

Well, that’s not exactly what the Bible tells us.

In fact, Scripture is filled with people who loved God deeply and still experienced fear, sorrow, and overwhelming circumstances.

Think about David.

Here was a man who had seen God do incredible things.

He’d faced Goliath.

Survived battles.

Experienced God’s protection time and time again.

And yet, David knew what it felt like to be afraid.

He knew what it was to feel overwhelmed.

He knew what it was to cry out because life had become more than he could handle.

In 2 Samuel 22:7, he says:

“In my distress I cried out to the Lord; yes, I cried to my God for help. He heard me from his sanctuary; my cry reached his ears.”

Did you catch that?

David didn’t say, “Once I got my emotions under control, I went to God.”

He didn’t say, “After I stopped being afraid, I prayed.”

He said, “In my distress I cried out to the Lord.”

Right in the middle of it.

While he was hurting.

While he was afraid.

While he desperately needed help.

And God heard him.

Now, think about Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.

The night before His crucifixion, Jesus experienced such deep anguish that Scripture describes His sweat as being like drops of blood falling to the ground.

He knew what was coming.

He knew the suffering He was about to endure.

And in that moment, He prayed to His Father.

He didn’t pretend the pain wasn’t real.

He didn’t hide His sorrow.

He brought it honestly before God.

And I think there’s something we desperately need to understand about that.

Feeling overwhelmed doesn’t mean you’ve stopped trusting God.

Sometimes, it simply means you’re human.

And being human means there will be days when life feels heavier than we know how to carry.

Days when our minds won’t slow down.

When our hearts feel unsettled.

When we’re worried about our families, our finances, our health, or things we can’t control.

And sometimes, we make those moments even harder by feeling guilty for having them.

We tell ourselves we should be stronger.

That we should have more faith.

That we shouldn’t be struggling with these feelings.

But listen.

God isn’t waiting for you to get your emotions straight before you come to Him.

He’s not standing at a distance, disappointed because you’re having a difficult day.

He’s inviting you to bring Him the truth.

Even when the truth is messy.

Even when your prayers come through tears.

Even when all you can manage to say is, “Lord, I need help.”

And here’s something else worth remembering.

Bringing our anxiety to God doesn’t mean we should never need help from anyone else.

Sometimes, God cares for us through a trusted friend, a pastor, a counselor, or a medical professional.

Seeking that help isn’t a failure of faith, either.

It’s one more way we can respond wisely to the burdens we’re carrying.

So if anxiety has been weighing on you lately, I want to encourage you to do something today.

Stop pretending.

You don’t have to put on a smile for God.

You don’t have to find the perfect words.

You don’t have to convince Him that everything is fine when it isn’t.

Just talk to Him.

Tell Him what’s frightening you.

Tell Him what’s keeping you awake at night.

Tell Him what you don’t know how to fix.

And remember that the same God who heard David’s cry hears yours, too.

Now, that doesn’t mean every anxious feeling will disappear the moment you pray.

Sometimes, peace comes gradually.

Sometimes, we need support and time.

And sometimes, we have to keep bringing the same worries to God again and again.

But we can do that knowing we’re not facing them alone.

Because your anxiety doesn’t disqualify you from God’s love.

Your struggles don’t make you less worthy of His care.

And your tears don’t mean your faith has failed.

So come to Him just as you are today.

Afraid.

Overwhelmed.

Exhausted.

Uncertain.

Whatever you’re feeling, bring it to the One who hears you.

You don’t have to have it all together to come to the One who holds you together.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Have you ever felt guilty for experiencing anxiety or fear because you thought you should have more faith?
  • What does David’s honesty in 2 Samuel 22:7 teach you about bringing your emotions to God?
  • How does Jesus’ experience in Gethsemane change the way you think about sorrow and emotional struggles?
  • Is there something you’ve been afraid to admit to God, even though He already knows what’s in your heart?
  • Who are the trusted people God has placed in your life who can support you when you’re feeling overwhelmed?

QUESTION TO CARRY WITH YOU TODAY

What have I been pretending is okay that I need to bring honestly before God today?

/by

Trust More, Carry Less

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Psalm 145:14 — The Lord helps the fallen and lifts those bent beneath their loads.

There’s a fine line between being prepared for a trip and packing like you’re moving away.

And apparently, I have a hard time finding that line.

You see, with my second job, I’m traveling more than ever these days.

And I’ve discovered something about myself.

I need to learn how to travel light.

Because somewhere along the way, I’ve convinced myself that a three-day trip requires enough clothing for two weeks.

Six pairs of shoes?

Of course.

Twelve pairs of pants?

Well, what if I change my mind?

And don’t even get me started on all the little things I throw into my suitcase “just in case.”

By the time I’m finished packing, I can barely lift the thing.

And then I’m standing there wondering why I need a back brace just to get my suitcase into the car.

All for a three-day trip!

But lately, I’ve been thinking about something.

There’s a difference between carrying what we need and carrying what we’ve simply gotten used to holding on to.

And I’m not just talking about luggage.

Because if we’re being truthful, some of us are walking through life with some pretty heavy baggage.

Old regrets.

Unforgiveness.

Worries about tomorrow.

Disappointments we haven’t been able to let go of.

Things someone said years ago that we still replay in our minds.

And sometimes, we’ve carried those things for so long that we don’t even realize how heavy they’ve become.

We just keep going.

Keep smiling.

Keep telling everybody we’re fine.

All the while, we’re struggling under the weight of things nobody else can see.

Have you ever felt that way?

I think that’s why I love Psalm 145:14.

“The Lord helps the fallen and lifts those bent beneath their loads.”

What a beautiful picture of God’s heart.

He sees the person who’s struggling.

He notices the one who’s exhausted.

He doesn’t look at someone who’s fallen and tell them they should have been stronger.

He reaches down to help them up.

And He lifts those who are bent beneath their burdens.

I don’t know about you, but that brings me so much comfort.

Because sometimes, we convince ourselves that being strong means handling everything on our own.

We think we have to figure it all out.

Hold everything together.

Carry every responsibility without ever admitting we’re tired.

But God never asked us to be strong enough to live without Him.

In fact, Jesus invites those who are weary and burdened to come to Him for rest.

Not after they’ve solved all their problems.

Not after they’ve finally gotten their lives together.

But right in the middle of their weariness.

And here’s something I’ve been learning.

Just because you’ve been carrying something for a long time doesn’t mean you have to keep carrying it the same way.

Now, that doesn’t mean every burden disappears the moment we pray.

Some situations still require difficult conversations.

Some responsibilities are ours to fulfill.

Some heartaches take time to heal.

And sometimes, God helps us through the people He places in our lives.

But even when the circumstances don’t change overnight, we can stop believing that we’re supposed to face them all alone.

We can bring our worries to Him.

Ask Him for wisdom.

Trust Him with the things we cannot control.

And allow His strength to support us when our own strength is running low.

So here’s a little challenge for you today.

Take a moment and think about what you’re carrying.

Not in your suitcase.

In your heart.

Is there an old hurt you’ve been holding on to?

A worry about tomorrow that’s stealing your peace today?

A regret you’ve replayed so many times that you’ve forgotten what it feels like to live without it?

Maybe it’s time to open up that emotional suitcase and take a look inside.

Ask God what needs your attention.

What needs healing.

And what you’ve been trying to control that you need to place in His hands.

Because you were never meant to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.

And the God who lifts those bent beneath their burdens is ready to help you with yours.

As for me?

I’m still working on the whole packing thing.

But I’m learning.

I really don’t need six pairs of shoes for a three-day trip.

And I certainly don’t need to drag around things that are weighing down my heart.

So here’s to lighter suitcases.

Lighter hearts.

And learning to trust the One who’s strong enough to carry what we cannot.

Travel light, my friends.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What is something you’ve been carrying emotionally that has become heavier over time?
  • Why do you think we sometimes feel that asking for help is a sign of weakness?
  • How does Psalm 145:14 change the way you picture God’s response when you’re struggling?
  • What’s the difference between taking responsibility for something and trying to control something that’s beyond your ability to change?
  • Is there a burden you need to bring to God today, perhaps by praying, forgiving someone, or asking a trusted person for help?

QUESTION TO CARRY WITH YOU TODAY

What am I carrying that God never intended for me to carry alone?

/by

Through The Stormy Night

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Psalms 30:4-5 — Sing to the Lord, all you godly ones! Praise his holy name. For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime! Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.

I thought that tent was going to come apart at any moment.

I was just a little girl, tucked inside a tent with my parents and siblings on one of our family camping trips.

Before we eventually upgraded to a travel trailer, all five of us squeezed into that tent for our weekend adventures.

And I loved those trips.

There was something so exciting about Friday afternoons when Mom and Dad finished work, and we loaded everything up to head out for the weekend.

The fresh air.

The campfires.

The adventure of sleeping outside.

Well, I loved most of it.

Because there was one particular camping trip I’ll never forget.

That was the night the storm came.

Rain hammered against the tent.

Wind rattled the poles.

And thunder cracked so loudly that I was sure the whole thing was about to collapse around us.

You know, it’s funny how something that feels perfectly safe when the sun is shining can suddenly seem awfully fragile in the middle of a storm.

Those tent walls that had felt so cozy at bedtime?

They didn’t seem nearly strong enough anymore.

And I was scared.

Really scared.

I lay there listening to the wind and rain, wondering how in the world we were going to make it through the night.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I woke my mom.

And I’ll never forget how she responded.

She didn’t panic.

She didn’t sound worried.

She simply spoke to me in that calm, reassuring voice that only a mama can have.

She told me we were safe.

That she was right there.

And that she wasn’t going to let anything happen to us.

Now, here’s the part that has stayed with me all these years.

The storm didn’t stop when my mother started talking.

The rain was still pounding against the tent.

The wind was still blowing.

The thunder was still rumbling in the distance.

But something changed.

Not outside.

Inside.

Because I trusted my mom, I was finally able to close my eyes and fall asleep.

And when I woke up the next morning, sunlight was streaming through the trees.

The storm had passed.

And there was this wonderful feeling of peace.

We had made it through the night.

You know, I think about that camping trip sometimes when life gets difficult.

Because storms don’t always come with thunder and lightning.

Sometimes, they come with a phone call you weren’t expecting.

A diagnosis you weren’t prepared to hear.

A relationship that’s falling apart.

Or a disappointment that leaves you wondering how you’re going to keep going.

And suddenly, the things that once made you feel secure don’t seem quite as strong as they used to.

That’s when fear has a way of creeping in.

And that’s when we need to remember the words of Psalm 30.

“Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.”

Isn’t that a beautiful promise?

Now, it doesn’t mean every problem will disappear when the sun comes up.

Some storms last longer than one night.

Some heartaches take time to heal.

And sometimes, the morning arrives while we’re still waiting for answers.

But the promise of Scripture is bigger than one sunrise.

It’s the reminder that sorrow doesn’t get the final word.

God does.

And the same God who walks with us through the darkness is still with us when morning comes.

I think that’s what my mother taught me that night, even though she probably didn’t realize it.

She couldn’t stop the rain.

She couldn’t silence the thunder.

But her presence and her voice reminded me that I wasn’t facing the storm alone.

And isn’t that what our Heavenly Father does for us?

He doesn’t promise we’ll never face frightening things.

But He does promise that He will never leave us.

And sometimes, just knowing He’s there gives us enough peace to close our eyes and rest, even while the storm is still raging.

Maybe that’s where you are today.

Maybe you’re in the middle of something you never saw coming.

Maybe you’re tired.

Maybe you’re frightened.

Maybe you’re wondering how you’re going to make it through the night.

If that’s you, I want you to remember something.

You don’t have to wait for the storm to end before you can find peace in the One who is with you.

Listen for His voice in Scripture.

Talk to Him about what frightens you.

And trust that even when you can’t see what’s coming next, He hasn’t lost sight of you.

Because the night won’t last forever.

And even when the road toward healing is longer than we hoped, God’s love will remain.

I still remember waking up that morning, seeing the sunlight filtering through the trees, and realizing we’d made it.

And I think one day, we’ll look back on some of the storms we’ve faced in life and recognize how faithfully God carried us through.

So hold on.

Keep trusting.

And remember the promise.

Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Is there a childhood memory when someone helped you feel safe during a frightening moment?
  • What storm are you facing right now that has made the things you once depended on feel uncertain?
  • How does it encourage you to know that God’s presence doesn’t depend on your circumstances becoming easier?
  • Psalm 30:5 reminds us that joy comes with the morning. How can we hold on to that hope when a difficult season lasts longer than expected?
  • What Scripture, worship song, or reminder of God’s faithfulness helps quiet your fears when life feels overwhelming?

QUESTION TO CARRY WITH YOU TODAY

Can I trust God’s presence in the middle of my storm, even before I see the first signs of morning?

/by

Take A Breath Today

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Psalm 29:11 — The Lord gives his people strength. The Lord blesses them with peace.

Have you noticed the leaves beginning to change?

There’s something about this time of year that makes me want to slow down a little.

Maybe it’s the cooler air.

The colors in the trees.

Or the sound of leaves crunching beneath your feet as you walk along a trail.

And if you’ve ever spent a fall afternoon at Kiroli Park, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

For just a little while, you can step away from the noise.

No deadlines.

No ringing phones.

No problems you have to solve right this second.

Just the trees, the birds, and a world that keeps turning whether you’re rushing around or not.

I was reading recently about Forest Park in St. Louis being named the best city park in America, and it got me thinking about how much places like that mean to us.

Not because they’re flashy.

Not because there’s always something exciting happening.

But because they give us something we don’t always realize we need.

Room to breathe.

And goodness, don’t we need that sometimes?

Because life has a way of making us believe that everything depends on us.

The bills have to be paid.

The deadlines have to be met.

The family needs something.

Work needs something.

And there’s always one more thing waiting for our attention.

Even when we finally sit down, our minds don’t always get the message.

We’re still thinking about tomorrow.

Replaying yesterday.

Trying to figure out how we’re going to handle everything that’s coming next.

And before long, we’re exhausted.

Not just physically.

But emotionally and spiritually, too.

Yet there’s something beautiful about Psalm 29.

If you read the entire chapter, you’ll notice that David spends much of it describing the incredible power of God.

His voice thunders over the waters.

His voice breaks mighty cedars.

His glory fills creation.

It’s a picture of a God whose power is beyond anything we can imagine.

And then, after all those descriptions of His strength and majesty, the psalm ends with these words:

“The Lord gives his people strength. The Lord blesses them with peace.”

Isn’t that something?

The same God whose voice shakes the wilderness is the God who offers peace to you and me.

The One who commands the mighty waters isn’t overwhelmed by the things that overwhelm us.

He isn’t worried about tomorrow.

He isn’t surprised by what happened yesterday.

And He certainly isn’t asking us to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders.

He’s asking us to trust the One who already holds it.

Now, that doesn’t mean our responsibilities disappear.

The bills will still need to be paid.

The difficult conversations may still need to happen.

And tomorrow may bring challenges we haven’t even thought about yet.

But we don’t have to carry all of that as though we’re facing it alone.

Sometimes, we need to remember that being still isn’t the same thing as being irresponsible.

Taking a moment to rest doesn’t mean we’ve stopped caring.

And stepping away from the noise doesn’t mean everything is going to fall apart.

Sometimes, rest is simply an act of trust.

It’s our way of saying, “Lord, I know there are things I need to do. But I also know that You are God, and I am not.”

And there’s freedom in that.

So maybe today, you need to take a little walk.

Find a quiet spot.

Leave your phone in your pocket.

Listen to the birds.

Watch the leaves moving in the breeze.

And for just a few minutes, let yourself be reminded of how big God is.

You don’t have to solve every problem before you can experience His peace.

You don’t have to have tomorrow figured out before you can rest today.

And you don’t have to hold everything together.

Because the world can keep turning while you take a breath.

And do you know what?

He will still be God when you return.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • When was the last time you intentionally slowed down and spent a few quiet moments with God?
  • What responsibilities or worries have you been carrying as though everything depends on you?
  • How does the picture of God’s power in Psalm 29 change the way you think about the challenges you’re facing?
  • Why can taking time to rest sometimes be an expression of faith rather than a sign of weakness?
  • What’s one simple way you could make room for God’s peace in your schedule this week?

QUESTION TO CARRY WITH YOU TODAY

What am I trying so hard to hold together that I need to trust God with today?

/by